


The Bathroom Floor

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Shameless Smut, but here we are, post- CA:TWS, this wasn't supposed to be porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a scream. It was a weak, pitiful thing-- more of a yelp, really-- but it was enough to make Steve break down the bathroom door. Once he’s through, Bucky’s looking up at him from the bathroom floor, his eyes welling with tears.<br/>“Hey. Fancy meeting you here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bathroom Floor

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first smutty fic. Unbeta'd, because I couldn't wait to publish. Enjoy!

It started with a scream. It was a weak, pitiful thing-- more of a yelp, really-- but it was enough to make Steve break down the bathroom door. Once he’s through, Bucky’s looking up at him from the bathroom floor, his eyes welling with tears.

“Hey. Fancy meeting you here.”

Steve would have replied, but he’s too distracted with the knowledge that Bucky’s somehow managed to fall whilst extricating himself from his pants and might very well have injured himself in the process. Steve falls to his knees at Bucky’s side.

“Are you okay? You screamed,” Steve points out. He realizes he might have overreacted a little, but he only just got the Winter Soldier back, and he’d had _Bucky_ back for an even shorter amount of time. He wasn’t eager to lose either one of them any time soon.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Bucky frowns and glares downwards, “Who’d have guessed pants in the future would be so dangerous?”

Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky’s well enough to make light of the situation, at any rate.

“Here, I’ll help you out. The trick is to lay down--”

“Done.”

“-- suck in your gut, and lift your hips off the ground.”

To show he’s sucked in, Bucky puffs his cheeks up. Steve’s afraid if he rolls his eyes any harder they’ll get stuck that way, looking back into his brain. Not a pretty sight. Not as pretty as… Steve doesn’t let himself finish that thought. He files it away for later perusal, and gets to work. He runs his fingers along the waistband of Bucky’s jeans, attempting to find purchase somewhere. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until moments later, when his fingers finally slip underneath the denim and he exhales in relief. Bracing himself, Steve tugs. The jeans don’t give on the first tug, or the second, or even the third.

“We may have to cut these off you,” Steve huffs. He looks at Bucky, expecting him to crack another joke, maybe something about Steve’s inability to wield a knife. He’s taken aback when he sees Bucky’s heavy lidded eyes gazing at Steve’s fingers in his jeans. His hearing tunes itself into the shallow, uneven breaths Bucky’s taking.

“Whatever you decide to do, get on with it,” Bucky says, his voice all breathy and affected. He’s affecting Steve too, in ways he shouldn’t be. Steve swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. He nods and guides Bucky’s hips up with shaking hands. Bucky inhales deeply, Steve pulls, and the jeans slide down. The denim pools around Bucky’s ankles.

Steve whoops and makes to pull them the rest of the way off, until Bucky’s hand stills his own. He purses his lips, unaccountably frustrated with this turn of events.

“What? You don’t want them off now?”

“Nah, this’ll work just fine.”

“Work just fine for what?” Steve asks, angrier now. He has no patience for riddles.

“This,” Bucky exhales, and surges up. He twists his torso, and his lips are suddenly a hairs’ breadth from Steve’s. Close enough to touch, close enough to _kiss_. Frozen in his place by Bucky’s side, Steve does nothing. He doesn’t meet Bucky’s lips, but he doesn’t bolt from the room either. He thinks that’s a valiant act in and of itself.

Bucky’s breath mingles with his own and Bucky’s flint eyes have softened to something warmer than he’s seen in awhile, in more than half a century. There’s something else there too, something brand new and vulnerable. Steve sees that spark and he wants to kindle it, make it burn bright as a bonfire. He closes the distance between them with a sigh that’s both satisfied and hungry. He’s got what he never allowed himself to want in the first place, and now he needs more. Bucky needs it too.

Their forceful, eager kisses betray their desperation. Bucky whines and forces Steve’s lips apart with his tongue. He kicks his jeans off and swings one of his legs around so he’s encompassing Steve entirely. Steve’s unaware, all he knows is what he feels and he feels complete, like his missing piece has finally locked in place. Bucky peppers kisses along his cheekbones, his jaw, his neck. Steve’s hands tangle in Bucky’s hair (it’s still long, but Steve loves it’s length more and more with every passing second) as Bucky nips at his neck. He soothes the bite with a tender kiss, eliciting a moan from Steve.

“Oh god, Buck.”

Soon Bucky’s growling predatorily, saying something in that voice of command he learned in the war. Steve realizes he’s frustrated that Steve’s wearing way more clothes than he should be, and fixes that ill promptly. He pulls his shirt over his head while Bucky unbuttons his pants. After his shirt’s off, he rushes forward to kiss Bucky again, to taste the sweetest taste that’s both foreign and the most comforting thing. The sound of their teeth clacking together accompanies the sound of his zipper coming undone. Steve feels he’s about to follow his zipper’s suit, untouched and way too soon, but then Bucky’s lips disappear from his own and before he can complain they reappear at his waistband, kissing the soft, sensitive skin above the elastic.

Bucky’s hand comes up and cups Steve through the thin fabric of his briefs. His hardening cock twitches and his breathing stutters. Steve wishes he could be staring into Bucky’s eyes again, see the fire there and know he’s not dreaming. As Bucky pulls out Steve’s cock, Steve intertwines his fingers in Bucky’s free hand. The metal is cold to the touch, but Steve runs hotter than normal at the best of times and he needs something to cool him down in that moment. He’s admiring the way their hands fit imperfectly, yet _right_ , together, when Bucky strokes his cock for the first time. He moans and his fingers splay into a star. With every touch of his over-sensitive cock, Steve lets out another sound. It’s at times a weak whimper, at other times a grave gasp. He’s been bottling in those sounds of pleasure for far too long not to make a show of it when he can.

Bucky adjusts himself so his face is level with Steve’s once more. He’s still looking down, biting his kiss-swollen lips in concentration, but he’s close. Steve runs the fingers of his free hand through Bucky’s hair and settles his hand at the nape of Bucky’s neck. He pulls him forward gently and places a chaste kiss on his forehead. At the sudden contact, Bucky looks up, his eyes burning. Burning for Steve, it seems.

“Come on, Stevie, come for me.”

Steve tosses his head back and lets loose one last earth-shattering moan. He feels tremors travel the length of his body, reach out and end where he ends and Bucky’s hand begins. He comes all over Bucky’s hand. Bucky’s attempts to kiss Steve land off target, his lips brushing against the corner of Steve’s mouth. Steve laughs breathily, too satisfied and complete for strong exertions. Bucky shuts him up with his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Bucky wipe Steve’s cum on the skinny jeans. In his mind, he hears Bucky say that he wasn’t ever gonna wear ‘em again anyways, that they were way too restrictive.

Bucky’s pressing down on himself with his palm, but that won’t do, not for Steve. He’s too eager to touch Bucky anyway. With one deft movement, he pulls down Bucky’s boxers and takes his cock in hand. It’s already leaking precum from the tip. Steve spreads that over Bucky’s length and thumbs the slit, relishing the novel feeling when Bucky’s hips list at his mere touch. All this time, Bucky’s been undermining his orders at every turn. Apparently all it takes to get Bucky to listen to him is a handjob. Steve files that information away for later.

A few sloppy strokes later (Steve’s by no means an expert at this, and his excitement is making him even worse), and Bucky’s whispering a mixed litany of promises, confessions, and warnings in Steve’s ear.

“I- I’m about to--,”

He doesn’t finish the sentence before he comes. Steve bites his lip, wishing he could be kissing Bucky’s but unwilling to risk marring the perfect, pink ‘O’ Bucky’s mouth forms as he unravels.

Steve pauses before he wipes off the sticky, white semen. His curiosity gets to better of him and he licks his index finger clean. As he processes the bitter, alien taste, he hears Bucky inhale deeply. He casts his gaze over, meets Bucky’s fully dilated eyes, and pulls his finger out with a slight pop. Bucky’s eyes slide shut and he palms his forehead.

“Steve Rogers, you’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

Steve quickly borrows Bucky’s dirty jeans to clean off himself before he pries Bucky’s hand from his face. He takes Bucky’s scratchy, stubbly chin in hand and forces him to meet Steve’s gaze. He realizes he’s being a little intense, but he can’t bear to have Bucky think like that.

“I promise I won’t be, Buck. Never again.”

Bucky’s eyes soften around the edges. He smiles a small, content smile that makes Steve’s heart race and his breathing calm all at one.

“I know, you big idiot,” Bucky rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, “Come on, get up. You have to get yourself cleaned up.”

Steve’s frowning at first, but that changes to a crafty smile when he sights the shower and gets an idea.

“Only if you join me.”


End file.
